


We'll Laugh at that Old Bloodshot Moon in that Burgundy Sky

by sperrywink



Category: Bandom, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Unhappy Ending, WIP Amnesty, Work Up For Adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/pseuds/sperrywink
Summary: Brendon meets a cute boy at a club.





	We'll Laugh at that Old Bloodshot Moon in that Burgundy Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Another one where I never got past the conflict part of the story. This hangs a bit more than the previous WIP Amnesty I posted, so read at your own risk.
> 
> But if you are inspired, feel free to pick up the mantle and carry it forward, just give me a head's up if you don't mind. Cheers.

Sometimes being Brendon Urie wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Not often, mind you, most of the time it was awesome being him, but occasionally he just itched to let loose and not have it matter to anyone. When he felt like this, Shane told him he was being more of a prima donna than ever and called him Paris Hilton, but he didn't think it was like that. He just wanted to be twenty-one without the responsibilities of being well known.

Finally tired of Brendon's pleading, Shane helped him find the perfect club. One with a hard rock bent, one where Panic at the Disco would never be heard, yet one that was known for being queer-friendly. It was amazing how long it took them to find the perfect place, even in a town like Las Vegas, which was known for anything goes.

Nervous when he finally arrived at the club, Brendon eased his way through the crowd, stumbling when some guy pushed him back. Brendon said, "Sorry, man."

The guy, who was tall and muscular, sneered and pushed Brendon again. He said, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Brendon put his hands up with open palms. Zach and the band would kill him if he got his ass kicked in some nameless club while they were recording. Brendon had never felt his lack of height more. "Nothing, man." The guy, apparently drunk and getting off on this, pushed Brendon yet again. Brendon stumbled back, knowing he was going down, but also knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Still instinct took over and he flailed his arms. Just as his arms started windmilling, he fell right into waiting arms, which set him upright again.

"Leave the kid alone." Turning around, Brendon wanted to protest being called a kid, the guy who saved him didn't look older than twenty-five, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. This wasn't the time to make his savior rethink his actions. Brendon was pulled behind the new guy, and he went without protesting, leaning close and looping the fingers of one hand through the new guy's belt loop. Over the smell of beer and stale air, Brendon's savior smelled crisp and sunshiny. 

The asshole looked Brendon's savior up and down and laughed. He was easily fifty pounds heavier; the savior was tall, but lean. "You going to make me, fucker?"

Smirking, Brendon's savior pointed and said, "No, but he is."

Suddenly the bouncer appeared behind the asshole, clamping a large hand on the asshole's shoulder. "Trouble here, Greg?"

Brendon's savior, who was apparently named Greg, raised his eyebrows at the asshole and said, "I don't know, do we?"

The asshole started blustering, but the bouncer didn't seem to care, just twisted the asshole's arm behind him and started escorting him out. Brendon relaxed, leaning slightly into Greg. He hated close calls with assholes. Maybe being a regular twenty-one year old wasn't that hot when you wore glasses and were slight in build. Greg and Brendon watched the bouncer and the asshole for a minute, until they were lost in the crowd.

Greg turned around, and Brendon, feeling brave, didn't release his grip on Greg's belt loop, letting his arm twine around Greg. He smiled his brightest. "Thanks for saving me. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't shown up."

Greg smiled back, softly. He had a cute, easy smile and didn't seem to mind Brendon hanging off him. Brendon's appreciation grew. "You would've been all right. Charlie is pretty observant. He would have noticed even if I hadn't waved him over."

"You must come here a lot."

"I used to. This is the first time in a while. Work's been getting to me, so I decided to have some fun like I used to." Shaking his head as if to free the jumble of words, Greg then ran his hand down Brendon's arm and tangled their fingers together. Brendon couldn't believe the smoothness of the gesture. His grin widened and Greg winked at him. "Come on. I'm guessing you came here to dance, not talk."

He tugged Brendon into the middle of the dancing crowd before releasing his grip on Brendon's hand. He gave Brendon one final grin before throwing his head back and his arms up, swaying his body to the music. Enjoying the sight for a second, Brendon let his eyes sweep up and down Greg's body, and then closed his eyes and threw his arms up too. Dancing sounded perfect.

Brendon kept slitting his eyes open to make sure Greg was still next to him. He didn't want to lose him now that they had talked. Besides, he liked watching Greg's body move to the beat. He wasn't sinuous or graceful, not really, he tended to jerk around too much, but Brendon liked how much he seemed to be enjoying himself. Besides he could relate. He did similar disjointed movements when dancing.

Crowding in close to Greg, Brendon allowed his hips to brush against Greg's. Greg dropped one of his arms and slung it loosely around Brendon's shoulders and gyrated casually against Brendon. Brendon grinned wildly and his heart skipped a beat. Greg didn't seem to notice, just went back to moving with his eyes closed. Wrapping his arm around Greg's hip, Brendon did the same. This night was turning out to be perfect.

Dancing until they were both sweaty and Brendon's mouth was dry, the beat of the music seeped deep into his soul, Brendon stumbled when Greg untangled from him. He opened his eyes, blinking to come back down to earth. Greg leaned towards him and shouted, "I'm thirsty."

Brendon nodded and followed Greg off the dance floor to the bar. Greg was already getting a bottle of water by the time Brendon reached him, but he placed his hand over Greg's as it reached for his back pocket and wallet. He said, "The least I owe you is a bottle of water." Besides paying for their drinks like a good guy, he got to feel Greg up, and that was never a bad thing. Greg's ass was small, but cute.

Greg smiled winningly and ducked his head as Brendon thrust a twenty at the bartender and asked for another bottle of water. The bartender gave him a double take, but didn't say anything, and Brendon was glad and waved away his change. No reason to appear like an asshole if he was recognized, plus everyone working here seemed to know Greg, and he wanted to make a good impression. Appearing generous was the least he could do.

Greg gulped down his water in large sips, his Adam's apple bobbing rhythmically. Brendon stared until he was caught looking, and then blushed and turned sideways to take a large drink of his own water. He didn't know why he was getting embarrassed now; his interest had been obvious all night, but he suddenly felt self-conscious.

Greg's hip brushed against his and his foot slid into Brendon's line of sight. A ghost of breath was all the warning Brendon got as Greg whispered into his ear, "You ready for some more dancing?"

Shivers ran down Brendon's body and all he could do was nod speechlessly.

Taking hold of Brendon's hand, Greg tugged him towards the dance floor. Brendon hastily put his water bottle on the bar, and followed along.

They danced until the wee hours of the morning, always brushing against each other and slinging arms around the other's hips or shoulders. Brendon had apparently picked the right sort of club, because no one new hassled them, and there were other single-sex couples mixed in with the straight couples dancing together. He had also picked the perfect guy, because Greg was just the right balance of casual and serious, and continued to smell of sunshine.

When Brendon was reduced to shuffling his feet slowly as he was shamelessly draped over Greg for balance, they finally called it a night. Greg shook Brendon's hips mockingly and said, "Hey, hey, I think it's time to go."

Brendon leaned more on Greg and said, "No, I'm still good." He didn't bother opening his eyes.

He could hear the smile in Greg's voice as he said, "How about I treat you to breakfast and we let the staff clear everyone out, okay?"

Brendon opened his eyes and looked around blearily. There were just a bunch of stragglers like them left, while most of the staff was already putting chairs on tables and wiping down the bar. He nodded at Greg and smiled. "Breakfast sounds perfect." Inside, he was doing a happy little dance as his neurons began firing again. He had definitely picked the right guy.

They walked outside, Brendon shivering as they left the building and walked into the crisp, late autumn air of the early morning. He could feel his nipples tightening into sharp little nubs and he rubbed his arms to get some warmth back into them. Greg had picked up a jacket from the bouncer on the way out, and he slipped it on. He said, 'I know a great twenty-four hour place on Market not far from here."

Brendon said, "Sounds great. Um, I'll follow you there?"

Nodding, Greg jangled his keys and smiled at Brendon. He jogged to a small car in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot, and Brendon hurried to his own SUV.

They drove to the diner, parking right next to each other. Brendon had rolled down the windows in order to clear his head, and he felt wide awake by the time they got there. Jumping out of the SUV, Brendon was waiting as Greg came around the side of his car. Smiling bashfully Greg said, "You know, I don't even know your name."

"Brendon."

"I'm Greg."

"I know. The bouncer said your name."

Greg grinned. "Well, now that we got that out of the way, how about a heart-attack on a plate, Brendon?"

Brendon nodded eagerly; besides wanting to get to know Greg better he was suddenly starving. They walked into the diner and got a booth, sitting across from each other. They each took a menu, Brendon only giving his a perfunctory glance. He knew he wanted pancakes and whipped cream.

He spent the rest of the time cataloging Greg in the harsh light. He could now see the laugh lines around Greg's eyes and he thought Greg might be older than he originally thought, probably right around thirty. Greg's face was kind and cute, though, and this was even more apparent in the bright light. Brendon could feel his body relaxing even more.

The waitress came up and they ordered; the pancakes for Brendon and eggs and hash browns for Greg. Brendon also ordered milk considering the lateness of the hour, while Greg ordered a coffee.

After stirring sugar into his coffee, Greg asked, "So what do you do, Brendon?"

"I'm a musician." Extending his arm, Brendon pointed at his tattoo.

Greg took his arm and tilted it to get a better look. "That's cool. Do you play in one of the clubs or casinos?"

Biting his lip, Brendon said, "Not exactly."

"Yeah, I imagine it's a hard gig breaking into this town." Brendon didn't correct Greg's wrong perception, although it confirmed his suspicion that no one at the club he was at tonight would have any idea who Panic at the Disco were.

Moving the focus to Greg, Brendon asked, "What do you do?"

"I'm a Crime Scene Investigator with the LVPD."

Trying to reconcile Greg's kind face with the police, Brendon couldn't help exclaiming, "No kidding! Wow, That's a serious job. I was expecting you to say you were an accountant or a manager or some normal occupation like that. "

"Tell me I don't look like an accountant."

Brendon giggled. "No, no. I just meant I was expecting something mundane." At Greg's continued horrified face, Brendon laughed again. "I'm just making this worse, aren't I?"

Greg laughed too. "Yeah, you kind of are."

"So save me from myself, and tell me how you became a Crime Scene Investigator."

"Well, it all started at Stanford where I was a chemistry wonder kid."

"Not to toot your own horn."

"Hey! You have to know your strengths. I'm sure if I asked you about your music you wouldn't be all bashful about telling me how great you are."

"I might. What makes you think I wouldn't be?"

"After the way you dance, you don't strike me as the bashful type."

Brendon flushed and felt warmth spread through his belly. Greg was grinning at him with his eyebrow cocked in a flirtatious manner. Brendon said, "We were talking about you."

Greg's grin turned soft and he allowed the topic to be turned back to him. As they ate their breakfast, he told Brendon about being a DNA technician first in New York and then in Las Vegas, but then being driven to leave the lab and taking a pay cut to go out in the field as a CSI. "Science is great, I always wanted to be a scientist, but I didn't realize that so much of the day-to-day stuff was repetitious. I wanted to be actively searching for the truth and putting the puzzle together, instead of just providing the same piece over and over again."

"It sounds like you really love what you do."

"Yeah. It's hard, you wouldn't believe the things I've seen, the things I've done, but I can't imagine doing anything else. How about you?"

"Music is my life. There's nothing else I'd rather do. I don't think there is anything else I could do."

"It's worth all the hardship, huh?"

Thinking of the fights with his parents and working at the Smoothie Hut, he said "Every last one."

"So what do you play?"

"I sing and play guitar. Also piano and bass."

"Versatile, huh? That's awesome. You'll have to tell me when your next gig is, so I can come watch you play."

Brendon bit his lip and looked down. He didn't want to lie to Greg; it felt like this could be the start of something real, but he was enjoying being just plain Brendon so much. Knowing he had to suck it up, he said, "It might be awhile, we're actually recording right now."

"Recording, that's the big time."

"Yeah, we're pretty excited." Brendon rubbed patterns on the tabletop in the ring of condensation from his milk. He peeked at Greg.

Considering him seriously, with a thoughtful look on his face, Greg haltingly said, "So maybe you'll have to give me a private concert someday."

Feeling like he had dodged a bullet, and knowing that Greg had graciously let him do it, Brendon grinned. "Anytime."

The check arrived, and before Brendon could snag it, Greg had it in his hand. He said, "You paid at the club. I'll get this." Not wanting to cause a scene, Brendon let him pay with a smile for the waitress.

The walked out into the rising dawn, Greg stretching. Brendon was following, and his steps slowed so he could enjoy the sight. He really did get off on looking at Greg.

Greg turned around and started walking backwards. "So not to be a wet blanket or anything, but I'm working double shifts all this coming week, so I kind of need to hit the hay."

Brendon's heart dropped and his steps slowed even more. "Oh." He suspected his thoughts were reflected on his face. He didn't want the night to end and he had thought they were heading somewhere different. Somewhere with a bed and tangled sheets, not goodbye in the parking lot.

Getting an understanding look on his face, Greg said, "Hey, no. Maybe not tonight, but maybe I could get your number? That's what I was trying to say." He reached a hand out, and pulled Brendon to him until they were standing close together, hidden from the diner by Brendon's SUV. Greg's hand was warm as it smoothed up Brendon's chilled arm.

His emotions see-sawing back up, Brendon grinned. All right, maybe he wasn't going to get lucky tonight, but soon was good enough for him. It was a better prospect than he started the night with. Brendon closed the distance between them and looped his arms around Greg's shoulders. He tilted his head up, and kissed Greg lightly. "I'd like that."

Rubbing his back, Greg smiled wordlessly and pulled him into another, deeper kiss. Brendon smiled into it, and then opened his mouth for Greg's searching tongue. Making out against the car, they kissed until Greg pulled back with a groan. "I really do need to sleep."

Brendon hummed and kissed the underside of Greg's jaw. "You still have to give me your number."

Greg began feeling around Brendon's pockets and tickling his sides. "Give me your phone."

Laughing, Brendon squirmed away. "All right, all right!"

They exchanged phones and typed in their respective phone numbers. Handing Brendon's phone back, Greg said, "Like I said, I'm working doubles, but I'll give you a call during a break, okay?"

Brendon simply nodded. He didn't trust his voice. He was hoping too much that this wasn't a brush off. Greg pecked him on the mouth and then loped off to his car. He looked back and gave a little wave before getting in. Brendon waved back.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
They turned off their phones while recording, which Brendon was usually completely behind, but it drove him nuts the next day. The fifth time he asked to take a break, Spencer grabbed his arm before he could get out the door. Ryan crossed his arms and after a look from Ryan, Jon hastily crossed his arms too.

Ryan said, "Okay, what's up?"

"Nothing! Why does anything have to be up, Ryan Ross? I'm just parched and in need of a soda."

Spencer said, "And hungry and in need of a snack, and desperate to pee, and forgot something in your car, and, am I forgetting anything?"

Brendon scuffed his shoe on the floor but remained silent. He wanted to share, he did, but he didn't know where to start. He had come out to the guys, but he hadn't yet had something like this to discuss with them. He knew he could trust them, but it was still different telling them he was gay theoretically, versus telling them concrete details.

Ryan said, "Talk to us, Brendon. What's going on?"

Brendon looked around at his bandmates. Ryan looked concerned, Spencer was nervously tapping his fingers, and Jon looked like he wanted to give Brendon a hug. They were his best friends, besides Shane. He couldn't hide from them no matter how nervous he was. "I met a guy last night."

Everyone exploded into words. Jon was even bouncing on his toes. Finally waving his hands, Brendon shouted, "Hey!" to shut everyone up. Biting his lip, Brendon grinned. He loved these guys.

Ryan said, "Where? How?"

Brendon explained about the club and how he was looking for an anonymous good time. At Spencer's shocked look, Brendon quickly backtracked. "No, no! Not that kind of anonymous good time! Just, you know, I didn't want to be Brendon of Panic at the Disco, but just plain old Brendon."

Spencer looked mollified, but he and Ryan exchanged looks.

Jon said, "And it worked, huh?"

Deciding to worry about what Spencer and Ryan were thinking later, Brendon grinned widely and said, "It so did."

Dryly, Spencer said, "So tell us everything about Mr. Good Time."

Slinging his arm around Brendon, Jon said, "Yeah, is he cute?"

Brendon leaned into Jon. "He is cute. Kind of older, Pete's age maybe, works as a Crime Scene Investigator with the police department."

Ryan said, "Jesus. You're dating a cop?" He sounded horrified, yet fascinated.

"Crime Scene Investigator, Ryan."

"Same difference, Brendon."

"Anyway, we're not dating yet. We just danced and had breakfast."

Jon grinned at him. "Dancing and breakfast? Sounds like dating to me."

Brendon looked around at the eager faces around him and shrugged, grinning back. "He said he'd call."

Spencer said, "And you've been driving us nuts checking your phone?" He was smiling, though.

"Yeah."

Sympathetically, Jon said, "No messages yet, huh?"

Brendon slumped and shook his head. "He said he had to work double shifts." Ryan and Spencer exchanged looks again, and really, they had to stop doing that, or Brendon was going to get a complex.

Ryan said, "Well, since we're just working on arrangements for "She's a Handsome Woman," I think it would be all right if Brendon left his phone on." Brendon bounced over and hugged Ryan. "Just this once, though!"

Brendon turned on his phone, there were no messages unfortunately, and then put it on the table near the door. He wanted to be able to duck out quickly if Greg did call. Then they got back to work. 

He was able to mostly concentrate on their songs and even got embroiled in an argument with Ryan about the second verse of That Green Gentleman.

It was while they were on break for dinner and arguing about whether to order in sandwiches or Chinese that his phone rang. Everyone froze.

Then they all scrambled towards the door, but Jon was the first there. He held the phone aloft so Brendon couldn't snatch it away. "G. Sanders? Is that your guy?" Brendon jumped, reaching for the phone and Jon let him take it.

The phone rang again, and Brendon quickly hit the on button and turned away from his bandmates. "Hello?" He tried for the door, but Ryan was leaning against it with a grin. Brendon stuck his tongue out at him.

"Brendon?"

"Yes?"

"It's Greg. From last night? Or this morning, technically, I guess."

Brendon pushed at Spencer who was practically on top of him. "Hi! Of course, I remember you. How's work going?"

"It's been pretty quiet so far. I'm on a B & E. Things usually pick up later in the evening, though. So anyway, I checked my schedule and my next night off is Thursday. Are you free, by any chance?"

"Thursday? Yeah, I'm free on Thursday." Jon shook Brendon's shoulders and Ryan grinned at him. Brendon grinned back. He knew he was blushing, and he felt stupid to get so excited about a date, but it was hard to remain cool and collected with Jon raising his arms in a touchdown pose.

"Great! I was thinking a little dinner, maybe a movie. You know, the classics."

"That sounds awesome. I'll probably be recording on The Strip, do you want to meet somewhere or can I pick you up?"

Spencer mouthed the words "Smooth, very smooth," at him and Brendon gave him the finger. Spencer just grinned harder.

They made arrangements to meet at a small restaurant just off The Strip at eight p.m. and Brendon hung up the phone. He couldn't stop smiling.

Jon said, "Go, Brendon! Finally getting some action!"

Brendon replied, "Oh, fuck you very much," but he was still grinning.

Thoughtfully, Spencer said, "What's his first name again? The name on the phone was G. Sanders and we know where he works. We can definitely have this guy checked out by Thursday."

Everyone looked at him.

He said, "What? Like you all weren't thinking it."

Everyone else shook their heads no, and Brendon said, "Spencer! We're not going to have my date tailed!"

Spencer crossed his arms. "I'm just concerned for your safety!"

"Well, thanks, _Mom_ , but I think I can handle my own dates." Ryan coughed and Jon turned away. Brendon said, "I can!"

Jon patted Brendon on the arm. "Of course, you can. We're just joshing you. Now tell us more about G. Sanders. Like his first name."  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
Brendon almost wished he could go back to just having to deal with Shane's casual disinterest. Having his whole band in on his date was daunting. They wanted to know everything from what kind of clothes Greg wore (casual boy jeans and a Black Flag t-shirt), to what kind of clothes Brendon planned on wearing (casual girl jeans and his favorite cowboy style shirt). By Thursday he was on pins and needles with nervousness, and his bandmates weren't far behind.

"Really, it'd be no problem."

"You can't go on my date with me, Spencer." Brendon continued checking his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone.

"We wouldn't be on the date _with_ you; we'd just be in the same restaurant."

"No."

Spencer pleadingly said, "Ryan."

Ryan said, "I think I have to agree with Brendon here. It'd be tacky to crash his date." Huffily, Spencer backed off, but he looked disgruntled. Ryan continued, "Maybe we could bug Brendon. I pass a little surveillance shop on my way here." Jon, sitting in the corner, started laughing his ass off, the bum.

Brendon waved his arms. "There will be no tailing, no bugging, no surveillance of any kind! It's just a date! People go on them all the time."

Spencer said, "But not with you. Not with our best friend."

Flushing Brendon looked down to hide his goofy grin. He didn't want to encourage this behavior. Once he had his face under control, he hugged Spencer and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be fine. I promise to call."

Ryan opened his arms, so Brendon hugged him too, rolling his eyes at Jon. He then hurried out of the studio before the Wonder Twins could get any more bright ideas.

Arriving at the restaurant, he saw Greg waiting outside. Greg was again wearing loose boy jeans, but this time had a thin, tight, black sweater on instead of a t-shirt. Brendon took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in his stomach. Getting out of his SUV, Brendon adjusted his shirt and walked towards Greg with a smile.

Noticing him, Greg straightened up and smiled back. Brendon stopped a couple feet in front of Greg and bounced on his toes. "Hey."

Leaning in and giving Brendon a quick kiss on the cheek, Greg said, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Such a shock, I know." Brendon's butterflies multiplied, but he tried to look cool. "I hope this place is good. I'm starving."

"Oh, it's only the best Italian in Vegas. It's totally where Danny the Dealer set up shop back in the seventies." At Brendon's blank look, Greg opened the door for him and said, "I thought you were a Vegas kid, and you don't know Danny the Dealer? Have I got a story for you."

All through the first course, Greg regaled Brendon with improbable stories of Vegas's history. Laughing, Brendon kept calling him a liar as each story topped the next in bribery and murder. As their main course arrived, Greg, interrupting his new story about the Peking Pimp, said, "I'm totally monopolizing the conversation, that's terrible of me."

Brendon, who had been transfixed by the stories said, "No! It's been fascinating. Just. Why do you know all this stuff?"

"I want to write a book about the history of the mob in Vegas. The untold stories." He waved his hands in an expansive gesture and deepened his voice to make it mock dramatic.

Brendon giggled. "That's so cool. The Vegas I know is so different."

"Yeah? How so?"

Brendon blushed. He hadn't meant to back himself into a corner where he had to talk about his past. He was still uncomfortable with it. He never knew how people would react to it. Toying with his fork, he stabbed a piece of chicken Alfredo. "I grew up Mormon. Out in Summerlin?"

Greg sat back in his chair and scrutinized Brendon carefully. "No kidding."

"Yeah. I got kicked out when I wouldn't quit my band. I've made up with my parents now, but it was dicey for a while."

"Do they also know you date guys?"

Brendon nodded. "Yeah. Once the music thing blew up in my face, it seemed silly not to confront them with everything all at once. There wasn't any reason not to, you know?"

"What was the problem with music?"

"Too unpredictable, too unstable, and too ungodly."

"Ouch. Triple threat, huh?"

Greg smiled understandingly at him and Brendon grimaced back. Still he joked, "You know it."

Luckily before Greg asked any more questions about his past, the check arrived and the conversation turned to the more mundane matter of who would pay. Brendon argued that Greg had bought breakfast earlier in the week, but Greg argued that he had asked Brendon out on the date. They finally settled it with rock, paper, scissors; Brendon giggling the whole time even though he lost. He felt bad about being the rockstar and making Greg pay over and over again, but he didn't know how to make the argument without avoiding mentioning that he was, in fact, a rockstar.

The movie theater, a revival theater showing The Thin Man, was within walking distance, so they ambled over, good-naturedly arguing over who would buy the popcorn and soda. Brendon finally won this argument, and he paid for the tickets and snacks. They settled into seats about half-way back from the screen, Greg slouching down in the seat until his head was level with Brendon's.

As it turned out, the movie theater was mostly empty, which was good because Greg kept whispering facts about the movie and Myrna Loy into Brendon's ear. Brendon kept shushing him, but he kept laughing as well.

When Greg lightly laid his hand on Brendon's knee, Brendon reached down and placed his hand over it and squeezed. Greg turned his hand upside down and twined his fingers with Brendon's. He knew Greg's move had been corny, but it still made Brendon grin uncontrollably through the rest of the movie. Good thing it was a comedy.

Afterwards, Greg said, "So they made a bunch of sequels; a whole slew of Nick and Nora films."

Leaning against his SUV and looping his hands in Greg's front pockets, Brendon replied, "I guess cashing in on a good thing has always been the Hollywood way."

Letting himself be pulled forward, Greg pressed kisses to the sides of Brendon's mouth. First the right and then the left and then the right again. He said, "You know it. But, anyway, if you had any interest in seeing them, I own the DVDs."

Turning his head to kiss Greg on the mouth, Brendon then pulled back and grinned. "So, another date?"

"My next day off is Tuesday."

"You have the weirdest schedule."

"Things have just been out of whack since one of my coworkers, Sara, left." Brendon raised an eyebrow, but Greg shook his head. "It's a long story." Not wanting the mood to be ruined, Brendon didn't push. He kissed Greg again, tightening his hold on Greg's pockets. They made out for a while, Greg's hands wandering under Brendon's shirt, mapping out his hips and lower back. When they broke apart, Greg said, "You wear the tightest jeans."

Brendon shimmied; Greg's hands rocking with the motion. "You love it."

"I kind of do." Greg kissed him again, more ardently this time, his hands gripping Brendon's hips tightly. Moaning, Brendon finally released Greg's front pockets, moving his hands to Greg's shoulders and arching into him. Their cocks rubbed together and Brendon was happy to discover that Greg was as hard as he was. They kissed and rocked together for long minutes, until Greg pulled back panting, resting his head against Brendon's. "I should go."

Brendon nipped his nose. "Yeah. I think we've made out in enough parking lots."

Laughing, Greg stepped back, releasing his hold on Brendon. Brendon felt cold without the warmth of Greg's hands on him. Greg said, "Yeah. I can't wait until we make it inside. It'll be a whole new world."

Laughing at what he suspected was an unconscious Aladdin joke, Brendon simply waved goodbye.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
Brendon was happy as hell when he showed up for recording on Tuesday. On the other hand, his bandmates were on tenterhooks again. Brendon suspected that the others were so interested in his dates because they were all so happily settled themselves. They wanted him to be equally settled, so they were heavily invested in this working out for him.

As for Brendon, he was just enjoying the new experience. Greg was conscientious and considerate, calling every day during one of his breaks, just to catch up. Brendon's phone wasn't always turned on for the calls, sometimes they were recording, but he got a thrill whether he got a call or a message. 

The others insisted on listening to the messages and tried to listen to his phone calls with Greg. He was only successful half the time in ducking out of the studio before they could block the door. Greg seemed to be twigging on to the fact that something was going on. Brendon guessed all the laughing in the background was tipping him off. But Greg remained upbeat on the phone, if tired sounding. Sometimes there were strident voices and sirens in the background of his calls and it was brought home to Brendon just what Greg did every night. It was a daunting realization. Greg's reality was so much grittier than Brendon's.

They stopped recording early so Brendon could make it to his date, and Brendon had to promise Ryan all over again that he would work extra hard the rest of the week before he could leave. The last thing he heard as he was leaving was Spencer saying, "I really think you should have let me have this guy investigated. Private eyes do it all the time, I'm sure."

Brendon shook his head and with directions in hand, drove to Greg's apartment.

Greg answered the door in a loose t-shirt, jeans, and bare feet. He looked relaxed and happy, and pulled Brendon inside and into a kiss. Squeaking in surprise and huffing a laugh against Greg's mouth, Brendon wound his arms around Greg's middle. They kissed for a long time, just standing in the entryway. Brendon loved all the kissing they did. He hoped that didn't change over time. He hadn't really indulged in kissing with his one-night stands, even though it was one of his favorite things about sex. It had never felt right when he was just trying to get his rocks off.

Finally Greg ended the kiss, and said, "Hey. So, it's good to see you again." His hands toyed with Brendon's belt at his hips, shifting Brendon's body from side to side.

Grinning, Brendon said, "It's good to see you, too."

"So, I figured we could order Chinese later, but I have chips and beer for the movie."

"Sounds like a plan. Now, show me casa de Greg."

Greg snorted. "Yeah, it's a real palace." He took Brendon's hand and pulled him further inside the apartment. "So, to the right we have the oh, so grandiose kitchen, straight ahead is the classic living room and dining room combo, and down the hall here is the bathroom and the bedroom." There were shelves of books and DVDs in the living room as well as a comfortable looking couch. Greg pulled Brendon down the hallway, waving grandly at the tiny bathroom and then at the open doorway of the small bedroom. The lightweight blanket was smoothed over the bed and there was no laundry on the floor.

The whole apartment would fit in Brendon's current living room, but it was light years better than the apartment he had when working at the Smoothie Hut. He kissed Greg and said, "I like it. I like all the books and the hardcore band posters. It suits you."

Greg smiled at him and winked. "You're just saying that to get in my pants."

It was Brendon's turn to snort. "I think you're a sure thing by this point."

Crowding Brendon against the wall, Greg said, "Point." They kissed in the hallway until Brendon's stomach rumbled and Greg laughed. "Maybe we should jump right to the Chinese food."

Greg ordered the food, with shouted reminders to not forget the scallion pancakes, as Brendon inspected Greg's shelves. There were books on forensics and science, as well as a bunch on Vegas' history, and an eclectic mix of DVDs, mostly action, though.

When Greg got off the phone, Brendon waved at the shelves and said, "So, old movies don't seem like your kind of thing, really."

"They're not, but The Thin Man series are my Papa Olaf's favorite movies, so I have them to remind me of him." Greg came up next to him and picked the Nick and Nora sequel they had agreed to watch from the shelf. He took it to the DVD player and began setting up the movie as Brendon sat down on the couch and kicked off his shoes.

"Your Papa Olaf?"

"My grandfather. He helped raise me."

"You're not from Vegas, right?"

Greg sat down and fiddled with the remote, pointing it at the TV. "San Gabriel, California, born and raised."

"A California boy, huh? Do you miss the ocean?"

Turning towards Brendon, Greg said, "Every day. But Vegas has its own charm, and the second best Criminalistics department in the country, so I'm happy here. Besides I can always vacation by the sea."

Unable to stop himself, Brendon started humming "Behind the Sea."

Greg grinned and leaned forward to hear better just as Brendon stopped abruptly and blushed. He usually wasn't embarrassed about his singing, but they had promised to keep the new songs under wraps. Greg said, "No, no! What was that? I don't know that one."

"It's one of our new songs. It's called "Behind the Sea." You just reminded me of it."

"Hum a little more."

"I can't. We promised we wouldn't share until they were all done. I shouldn't have even hummed that much. Besides I don't sing lead on it."

Greg mock pouted, and Brendon hit his arm. "I promised, asshole."

Laughing, Greg grabbed at Brendon's hand. "Okay, okay. Sing me something else then."

Never shy about singing, Brendon broke into The Beatles' "Good Day Sunshine."

Greg grinned delightedly, and then started laughing. As Brendon tapered off at the chorus, he said, "You're amazing."

Brendon shrugged, but he was pleased. He knew Panic at the Disco wasn't Greg's type of music, so having him appreciate Brendon's singing was nice.

The food arrived and they settled down to eat and watch the movie. Greg got them a couple beers from the kitchen along with utensils and plates, while Brendon unpacked the food. As it turned out, just like with most sequels, this movie wasn't as good as the first one, but Brendon enjoyed it all the same. It was worth it just to have the excuse to lay close to Greg.

After eating, Brendon had squirmed and maneuvered until they ended up lying down on the couch, Greg along the back with Brendon in front of him. Brendon had his head resting on Greg's elbow, while Greg's other hand was casually resting on Brendon's hip.

Once the movie finished, Greg tugged on his hip, and Brendon rolled over to face him. Kissing a path from Brendon's eyebrow to his mouth, Greg nuzzled against Brendon, finally engaging Brendon's lips in a kiss. Brendon surged against Greg, deepening the kiss immediately. It had been a long two weeks of waiting, and he was so ready for more.

Pretty soon Brendon's leg was wrapped around Greg's hips and they were grinding against each other. Greg tugged and rolled again so that Brendon was on top of him. Brendon's legs ended up on either side of Greg's and their hips were flush together. Brendon said, "Hi."

Greg laughed and ran a hand through Brendon's hair. "Hi, yourself." He rocked up.

Brendon ground down in return, but then reminded himself to focus. "Not that the couch isn't a vast improvement in our love life, but I was hoping for a bed this evening."

Still smiling, Greg said, "A bed, jeez. You believe in shooting for the moon, don't you?"

"The moon and the stars." Brendon wasn't really kidding, but he said it with a deprecating smile.

Greg nodded mock-seriously. "Such a romantic. Come on. Your bed awaits."  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
Brendon woke to the light sound of typing. There was warmth all along his back and Brendon leaned back into it. A hand came down on his hip and squeezed. Quietly, Greg said, "You up?"

Brendon hummed and rolled over. Greg was sitting up with a laptop, still shirtless. He smiled down at Brendon and said, "Hello, sleepyhead."

Feeling warm and intimate in the dim light from the computer screen, Brendon softly asked, "What time is it?"

"A little before five."

"God. What are you doing up?"

Greg reached down and tugged on a tuft of Brendon's hair. "I work nights, remember? This is the middle of the work day for me."

Groaning, Brendon stretched, rubbing one foot along Greg's calf. "I forgot."

Greg powered down the laptop, plunging them into semi-darkness. Brendon heard him carefully put the laptop on the bedside table, but could only feel the movements through the bed, couldn't quite see them. The next thing he knew, Greg's arms were coming around him and Greg was shifting to lie down next to him.

Brendon grinned and cuddled closer to Greg, wrapping one leg around Greg's hip. On every date so far, Greg had been free with his affections and had welcomed Brendon's. Brendon got a lot of physical comfort from his band, but it wasn't the same as coming from a lover, and he had missed that. He had quickly learned that it was bad form to ask for a cuddle from a one-night stand. He was ecstatic that Greg seemed to be on the same page as he was with respect to affection.

Rubbing the side of Brendon's face, Greg placed kisses along Brendon's jaw and up to his lips. They kissed, their tongues quickly sliding along each other's. Their making out was leisurely, since the urgency was spent. Brendon liked this new dimension of satiation, yet still being able to glut himself on kisses and touches. Greg's hands didn't remain still. They brushed along Brendon's face and shoulders, stroking and squeezing. Brendon returned the favor, as often as he remembered, but he was so lost in sensation that often his hands just remained gripping Greg's shoulders.

Still, it had only been a couple of hours since he had last come, and come twice, so there was no way Brendon was getting it up again, and it didn't seem like Greg was either. This was kissing for kissing's sake, and Brendon appreciated it all the more. Finally, the intensity of the kissing diminished to brushes of Greg's mouth against Brendon's, interspersed with soft sighs.

Greg rested his head on his bent arm, and toyed with Brendon's hair. "So, I have a question."

Brendon joked, "You can totally have my ATM PIN number. Just don't stop kissing me." He leaned forward and caught Greg's laugh in another kiss. Brendon would never grow tired of this.

"As tempting as your PIN number is, that wasn't my question."

Feeling reckless, Brendon said, "Ask anything."

Greg's hand tightened on Brendon's shoulder and silence descended on the room for a moment. Finally, a little haltingly, Greg asked, "So, is this a serious thing to you? Or is it casual?"

Hearing the hesitation in Greg's voice, Brendon marveled that Greg could feel any doubts. That was usually Brendon's department. He reached up and cupped Greg's face. "It's totally serious to me. Unless it's not to you." Suddenly unsure, Brendon stiffened. This conversation could be going in the completely opposite direction from what he assumed.

Greg, gripped his hand before he could take it away. "No! It's totally serious to me too."

"Then why would you ask that?"

"Well, I always seem to be the one calling you and asking you out."

"That's just because you're working so much. If you tell me it's all right, I would totally be calling you five times a day."

Greg laughed. "Well, that might be disruptive, but once in a while would be okay. We're mostly out in the field, so we don't have Grissom hanging over our shoulders monitoring our phone calls."

"Well, then, a couple of phone calls coming up."

Brendon's eyes had adjusted to the dim darkness by this point and he could see Greg looking uncertain again. Releasing his hold on Brendon's wrist and letting his hand fall to Brendon's arm, where it tapped a restless beat, Greg said, "Related to that, I know most guys aren't interested in monogamy, but I'm also a one person kind of guy. I don't have the time or the energy to be running around."

"Hey. I'm on board with that. I've actually been looking for this for a while now." Brendon loved the smile that bloomed across Greg's face. His smile back was heartfelt. He was glad that Greg had clarified their relationship; it showed guts and a seriousness that Brendon could respect. He wondered if now was the time to bring up the rock star thing. Biting his lip he thought about it.

If they were going to be serious about each other, it would have to come up sometime, and sometime soon. He couldn't introduce Greg to the band without first telling Greg who they were. It wouldn't be right to ask the band to hide what they were for his sake. Plus, he wouldn't want to start out lying to Greg. That was no way to build a relationship.

Greg tugged Brendon's bottom lip from between his teeth. "What's up?"

Biting the bullet, Brendon said, "Well, since we're clearing the air, I have something to tell you." Taking a deep breath, Brendon took the plunge. "My band is a little successful."

Greg snorted. "If by a little, you mean very."

Stunned, Brendon gaped at Greg and his grinning face. "What?"

"I know, Brendon."

Brendon brain was frozen. He could only repeat himself. "What? How?"

"I'm an investigator, it's what I do. Here you were this kid driving a fifty thousand dollar car and being cagey about your work, for all I knew you were a drug dealer. So, I looked you up. It wasn't hard to discover my Brendon was the Brendon Urie of Panic at the Disco, a successful rock band."

It made so much sense when Greg laid it out like that. Brendon had never thought about the trappings of his life and how they pointed to his success. Still, that wasn't the important part. "Your Brendon?"

Greg traced a fingertip along Brendon's hairline, giving Brendon shivers. Looking into Brendon's eyes he said, "Hopefully, my Brendon."

Brendon smiled, and kissed him. They made out for long minutes, Brendon pulling Greg's hip until he was lying on top of him. Greg's boxers rubbed against Brendon's thighs. They set up a leisurely rocking rhythm, not enough to get off, just enough to shoot sparks through Brendon's belly.

Finally breaking off the kissing with a gasp, Brendon asked, "When did you check me out?"

Greg settled to the side again and rested on his bent arm. "After our second date. I noticed the car, and after what you said about your parents, it seemed incongruous that you would have such a flashy, expensive one."

"I never thought of that. It's just my ride, you know?" Brendon ran his hand along Greg's shoulder and along his neck.

Greg arched into the touch. "I'm paid to observe things exactly like that."

"Even off-duty."

Distractedly, Greg said, "It's not a skill you can turn on and off. I'm sorry if it comes off like I didn't trust you, but I can't be too careful in my job."

Brendon continued running his fingers over Greg's neck, loving the shivers and small, breathless moans it was creating. "No, I get it. And I was hiding something, so it was justified."

"You were just cautious. I get that."

"Yeah?" Brendon lightly scratched his nails from under Greg's ear to up over the shell.

Apparently having enough of the teasing, Greg kissed Brendon, devouring his mouth hungrily. Even knowing the kissing wasn't going anywhere, Brendon couldn't get enough of it. He returned it just as enthusiastically, and twined his hands in Greg's hair, letting the strands sift through his fingers. He was so happy, he could burst.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
The next two weeks passed in a blur of sex and laughter for Brendon, despite them still only managing to see each other a couple times a week. Apparently the Vegas Crime Lab remained short-staffed and Greg continued to work double-shifts, but every moment they stole together was fun and magical. Not since meeting the band had Brendon felt such a connection with anyone.

So when Spencer and Ryan started acting weird, Brendon didn't pay attention to it. He was still floating on too much happiness to worry excessively. It wasn't until it affected their recording that Brendon became concerned. Ryan kept giving Spencer these looks, and Spencer looked by turns guilty, angry, and then just tired. Brendon didn't know what to make of it. He didn't want to get between them, it never turned out well when they fought and one chose sides, but they were making the session tense and Brendon hated that. It always made him extra hyperactive and loud, which usually pissed them off further, so it was a vicious cycle, and really, they should know better by now. 

Finally, after a whispered argument between Ryan and Spencer, and another outburst from Brendon about the supremacy of Pop Tarts, Spencer came up to Brendon and said, "Could I talk to you for a minute? In private."

Brendon stilled. The Ryan and Spencer weird thing was about him? He felt a frisson of anxiousness, but ignored it. "Anything for you, Spencer Smith, you know that."

They stepped into the corner of the room. With one final defiant look at Ryan, Spencer said, "I know you said not to, but I had Greg investigated." 

Words exploded out of Brendon. "Spencer! You know how I feel about that!" Brendon couldn't believe Spencer had gone behind his back like that. He knew Spencer was over-protective, but that was going to extremes.

"There are things you should know, Brendon." 

Brendon crossed his arms. He wasn't worried. "And I'm sure Greg will tell me when the time is right." 

"It's serious." 

"Come one, Spencer, it can't be that bad. It's not like he killed someone." 

All the color drained out of Spencer's face. Brendon's mind whited out. He whispered, "What?" 

Spencer collected himself and words rushed out of him. "It was in the line of duty and he was cleared, kind of, but it was a big deal in the media a year or so ago." 

"I don't understand." 

"Maybe you were right and Greg should be the one to tell you, but once I knew, I couldn't remain silent, no matter what Ryan said." 

"Start from the beginning." 

"It might be best if you read the report." Spencer handed him a manila envelope he retrieved from his backpack.

Brendon took the envelope, but didn't open it. He was afraid to, afraid of what it would say. He couldn't even imagine his kind, funny Greg killing someone. Greg had even mentioned that he didn't carry a gun, although some of the other CSI's did. It just didn't make sense. He said, "I'm just going to take this and-." Unable to complete the sentence, unsure of what he was going to do, Brendon headed for the door.

As he left, he heard Spencer shout, "Brendon!" He ignored him and started jogging.

Brendon drove aimlessly for a couple hours, the envelope a taunting presence at his side. He didn't want to read it and have his perfect idyll shattered by reality, but he knew he couldn't hide from it. Even knowing as little as he did, it was eating away at him. Still, he didn't think he could coldly read whatever was in that report. He needed to talk to Greg.

His aimless driving must not have been all that aimless, because when he realized this, he was only two miles from Greg's apartment. He drove the rest of the way there with shaking hands and made his way to Greg's apartment. Checking his watch, it was past 3:00pm, so hopefully Greg was up.

Taking a deep breath, Brendon knocked on Greg's door. He shifted from foot to foot as he waited. It suddenly occurred to him that he should have figured out what to say, how to start the conversation. He couldn't just say, "So I hear you killed someone. What's up with that?" He wasn't even sure he could get words out right now. His mind kept throwing up pictures of Greg and some faceless adversary, and his gut tightened in tension.

Before he had to knock again, a sleepy-eyed Greg opened the door. He was wearing loose jeans with the button undone and that was it. "Brendon," he exclaimed with a smile. "What are you doing here?" Looking at Greg's open and guileless face, Brendon just opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. How could Greg have killed someone? Emotions washed over Greg's face and he pulled Brendon into his apartment. "Hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Greg pulled Brendon into his arms, not quite a full hug, but comforting nonetheless. And maybe it was wrong of Brendon to take comfort from Greg when Greg was the problem, but he couldn't help it. He leaned into Greg and breathed easily for the first time in hours. Greg held him tight and whispered, "What's wrong, Bren?"

Wordlessly Brendon held the envelope up. Greg had to do some fancy maneuvering in order to still hold Brendon and open the envelope, but he managed it somehow. Brendon had his eyes closed, so he didn't see how. Greg stilled. In a tight and toneless voice he said, "Oh."

He tried to step away from Brendon, but Brendon held on tighter. "I haven't read it. Just. Spencer told me and I had to see you."

Greg was still stiff in his arms, but he didn't try and detach Brendon again. He just stood there for a long moment before saying, "You should probably read it."

"I don't want to read it. I want to hear what you have to say."


End file.
